READ STUDY GUIDE: Act I, Scenes ii-iv |
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Act I, Scene iii
| [Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his TUTOR] |
| RUTLAND.: |
| Ah! whither shall I fly to scape their hands? |
| Ah, tutor! look where bloody Clifford comes. |
| [Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers.] |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. |
| As for the brat of this accursed duke |
| Whose father slew my father, he shall die. |
| TUTOR.: |
| And I, my lord, will bear him company. |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| Soldiers, away with him! |
| TUTOR.: |
| Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child, |
| Lest thou be hated both of God and man. |
| [Exit, forced off by Soldiers.] |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| How now! is he dead already? Or is it fear |
| That makes him close his eyes?—I'll open them. |
| RUTLAND.: |
| So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch |
| That trembles under his devouring paws; |
| And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey, |
| And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder.— |
| Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, |
| And not with such a cruel threat'ning look. |
| Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die: |
| I am too mean a subject for thy wrath; |
| Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live. |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood |
| Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. |
| RUTLAND.: |
| Then let my father's blood open it again; |
| He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine |
| Were not revenge sufficient for me. |
| No; if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves |
| And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, |
| It could not slake mine ire nor ease my heart. |
| The sight of any of the house of York |
| Is as a fury to torment my soul; |
| And till I root out their accursed line |
| And leave not one alive, I live in hell. |
| Therefore— |
| RUTLAND.: |
| O, let me pray before I take my death!— |
| To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| Such pity as my rapier's point affords. |
| RUTLAND.: |
| I never did thee harm; why wilt thou slay me? |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| Thy father hath. |
| RUTLAND.: |
| But 't was ere I was born. |
| Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, |
| Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just, |
| He be as miserably slain as I. |
| Ah, let me live in prison all my days, |
| And when I give occasion of offence, |
| Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| No cause? |
| Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.[Clifford stabs him.] |
| RUTLAND.: |
| Dii faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae![Dies.] |
| CLIFFORD.: |
| Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! |
| And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade |
| Shall rust upon my weapon till thy blood |
| Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. |
| [Exit.] |
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